


The Summer Before - Part 2

by bluetoast



Series: Angels and Ministers of Grace [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Car Accidents, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Leia Organa's A+ Parenting, Religion, Stitches, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8396845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: The day after Ben's accident is quite the aftermath for everyone. Padme has had enough of her daughter's shit, Luke can't say he's surprised that his eldest has picked up on her aunt's behavior (but still has no idea the rest of kids are in the know) and Ben's long time friend, Nate, finally talks some sense into him.
HC Bingo Prompt - Suicide Attempt





	

Breakfast did wonders for Ben's overall outlook. The doctors wanted to keep him on simple foods – and the eggs, hash browns, and toast were great. He didn't even mind not being able to have coffee, as it would conflict with some of his medications. Now that his stomach was full, it was one less problem he had to deal with. He wasn't even entirely sure what all was wrong with him; other than any jerking motions of his chest hurt like hell. He set down his fork, staring at the empty plate for a moment, before turning his head slowly look at Uncle Luke, who had his gaze in his coffee cup. “Find any secrets of the universe in there?” 

His uncle chuckled and took a sip. “No, but it's thick enough I might want the recipe so I can repave the driveway with it.” 

“Vending machine coffee – it's either weak as the water to make it or strong enough to peel paint.” He coughed, wincing as his torso throbbed in pain. “The guy driving the car wasn't hurt, was he?”

“I don't know, I haven't heard.” He took another drink and set the cup down. “You're lucky he wasn't going faster.”

He let out a sigh and sat back. “I know. I do remember the pavement having to put in it's two cents as well as that guy's windshield.” He reached up and scratched a patch of skin on his forehead. “How bad is it?”

Luke gave him a wan smile. “It's going to be a hell of a scar.”

“Great, I'll work on my singing and join the road show of _The Phantom of the Opera_ and they can save money on the make up.” He let out another weak chuckle. “Shit, that hurts.” 

“I suspect it does.” He turned as Anna came back into the room, slowly carrying a paper up. “What did you find?” 

“Hot chocolate.” She took a drink. “So what if just six days to the official start of summer?” She took a seat on Ben's other side. “I think the doctor might be coming, I noticed the nurse who was in here talking to one.” 

“I spoke to your neighbor, Gwen, yes?” Uncle Luke coughed. “This was last night, and she said she would try and stop by this afternoon.” He looked from him to Anna. “Apparently, she somehow became your cousin on your father's side, care to explain?”

“ICU told her it was family only. It was the only thing she could come up with, since her wife would give her hell if she said I was her boyfriend.” He shot a grin at Anna, even though it hurt. “Prove she's not, without resorting to DNA testing.” 

“Yeah, I don't think Uncle Han is going to be here anytime soon, Dad.” She smirked. “Besides, I sincerely doubt Gwen is the last person to claim to be someone's cousin when they're not.” 

“Good morning.” a voice said from the doorway, where a man, perhaps the same age as his uncle, was standing. He looked at his clipboard. “Mr Solo, yes?”

Ben nodded. “Morning.” 

“You are a very lucky young man.” He scanned whatever he was reading. “Not many people who were struck by a BMW going thirty miles an hour would be in as good as of shape as you are.”

“Nice to know it was a luxury automobile. Mom would disown me if it had been anything less.” He grumbled.

“Benjamin!” His uncle said sharply.

“What?” He looked at Luke, his expression serious. “You know I'm right.” He coughed, painfully, and then looked back at the doctor. “Is the other guy okay?”

“He's fine, couple of stitches and slight shock.” He looked back at the clipboard. “The worst of your injuries are your ribs. I take it breathing deeply has been rather painful.” 

“Yeah.” He rubbed at his ear. “How many stitches are in my face?” He saw the man look down and blanch slightly. “Is it that bad?”

“Forty-seven, the cut was most likely caused by your impact with the rear-view mirror.” He glanced over at Anna, who made a soft gagging noise. “Are you all right, young lady?”

“I'm fine.” His cousin took a big sip of hot chocolate. “That's just gruesome. Not as bad as the time a girl in my class got a compound fracture on the playground, but almost.” She took another drink.

“Yes, well...” The doctor cleared his throat. “We just want to keep you here in the ICU for two more days, just for observation.” He looked back down at his chart again. “Do you have a regular physician, Mr. Solo?” 

Ben took a long sip of water before he answered. “No, not unless you count Doctor Andres.” He didn't look at anyone but the doctor before he spoke again. “He's a psychiatrist I see on occasion.”

“Anna, how about we go find some breakfast?” Uncle Luke interjected. “Let your cousin and the doctor talk?” 

“Okay.” She picked up her backpack and followed her father out of the room and Ben let out a relieved breath. 

“I'm not taking any form of psychiatric medication.” He rubbed on his unmarred cheek. It distracted him from how much the other one itched. “It.. I don't like how they make me feel. Like I'm not in my own body, but merely watching myself.” He took a deep breath. “I take some Ambien maybe twice a week, but apart from that and the occasional Aleeve and Tums, I don't take any form of medication. I also drink a beer or two one day a week. Depends on how the Cubs are doing.”

“Well, if you aren't one of the most sensible twenty-three year olds in the state, possibly the country.” The doctor smiled. “I appreciate your honesty with me, Mr. Solo.” 

“Ben.” He answered. “Please, Mr Solo is my dad.” 

“Sure.” He came closer to the bed, and took a few notes. “What is your current diagnosis from Doctor Andres?”

“Manic depression.” He looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time the bandages around his wrists. “I'm not suicidal sir, so you don't need to worry about that.” All he really wanted to do right now was rest. Rest and not worry, but worrying was almost a usual frame of mind for him. How the hell was he ever going to pay for his hospital stay? He had insurance, sure – but this wasn't going to be cheap. 

*

The day after a a case closed was always a busy one. The part Leia looked forward to was getting rid of all the paperwork that had been cluttering up her office during the trial. She set her travel mug of coffee down, then set her cell next to it. She'd been too exhausted to take any of the calls yesterday, and she was certain her mom kept butt-dialing her last night, so she hadn't answered any of them. There had also been several unknown callers, all with the same area code – which she had promptly blocked. Stupid scam artists. When the phone on her desk went off, she cursed softly; she'd told Ingrid, her assistant, to just take messages. “Leia Organa.” She answered, forcing civility into her tone. 

“No, that's my line.” Leia suddenly felt like she was fourteen again by the sharpness of her mother's voice. “Leia Shmi Skywalker Organa Solo, you have exactly thirty seconds to explain why you took none of my phone calls last night, and it better be a damn good one, something along the lines of you were donating a kidney to a twelve year old with cancer.” 

She sat down, swallowing. “If I said I thought your phone was ringing mine by accident, would that be acceptable?” 

Padme let out a long breath before speaking. “This is why your brother, not you, is the first one to be contacted should something happen to me. Please tell me you at least accepted the calls from the hospital.” 

“Hospital?” She paused, and then her stomach dropped out. Oh shit, had something happened to her brother? “What hospital? Why would they be calling me?”

“University of Illinois, in Chicago.” It was impossible to think that a seventy-five year old woman could sound as livid as her mother did right now. “The one where your son, your baby, is currently lying in their intensive care unit!” 

“Ben?” His name came out in a whisper. 

“Do you have another child that I don't know about?” Her mother snapped. “I knew you never approved of his choice of college, or nearly anything he's done, but I would hope that...”

“Where is he?” She bolted to a stand, her chair falling behind he with a crash. “I block unknown numbers, mom. I always do.” She looked up to see that the noise had brought Ingrid to the door, and she lowered the receiver. “I need a seat on the next flight to Chicago, _now_.” She nearly snarled at the younger woman, and instantly Ingrid nodded and backed away. “What happened?” 

“Luke called me right before I called you. Ben was struck by a car, and has several broken bones. Your brother didn't offer me many details, other than he's going to be all right.” Her mother sounded far too calm. 

“Luke's there?” She started putting things back into her briefcase, taking a swig of coffee before continuing. “When did he...”

“He and your niece drove through the night and got there a few hours ago.” The silent reprimand was worse than a slap to the face. “The accident happened yesterday morning.” 

She frowned. “Daisy's not old enough to drive, is she?” 

“Saints help us.” Her mother muttered. “Daisy is _twelve_. Her older sister, _Anna_ , is seventeen. Or do you have that sweet young lady Ingrid Bradshaw take care of the birthday and Christmas cards for you?”

Leia mused that she hadn't exactly been wrong about Daisy. “Mom...”

“Don't you mom me, young lady!” Padme barked. “I'm ashamed of you, Leia Shmi. Your father would be as well, if he was here. _Both_ of them would be.” 

She swallowed, hating the tear that slipped down her cheek – and knew she deserved that low blow. “Mom.” She tried again, and her voice cracked.

“Ben is at the University of Illinois Medical Center, in Chicago.” Leia knew the tone of controlled rage when she heard it. She'd spent years trying to copy it, and had never mastered it. 

Leia pulled open her bottom drawer and got her purse out, setting it on her desk. “I'm going, mom. All right? As soon as I hang up the phone, I am out the door and on the way to the airport.” She knew that Ben wouldn't be pleased to see her, most likely didn't want to see her, but damned if she wasn't going to go. Despite everything, she was his mother. 

*

Ben's apartment was full of furniture that was older than he was. Anna was fairly certain that the only thing younger than either of them was the futon in the back bedroom. The other thing about it was that it was super-clean. She had two brothers and knew that most guys weren't all that neat. She walked into the office at the front of the apartment, and stopped short. The whole room was lined with windows, leaving the room bathed in sunlight. “This is a pretty awesome view.” Looking towards the far window, she could see the street and L, and if you looked straight down the road that ran in front of the apartment and under the tracks, you could see where the street ended, maybe two blocks away – and beyond that, an expanse of blue water.

“What's that?” Dad called from the kitchen. They had left the hospital while Ben was undergoing a barrage of tests and to collect a few things for her cousin while he was in the hospital. 

“The view. I mean, you can see Lake Michigan.” She stepped around the desk and the bookshelves to the far door, which opened into her cousin's room. His bed wasn't made, but other than that, the room was just as clean as the rest of the apartment. It was weird. She could see a laundry basket just inside the closet, and his dirty clothes were _in_ it. Okay, maybe Ben was just really organized. “He should give Elijah and Liam lessons,” she mumbled and left the room by the other door.

“Remind me to tell your cousin that Peanut Butter Captain Crunch is not a healthy breakfast choice.” Dad called from the kitchen. 

“Maybe it's his favorite snack.” She replied, nudging the door of the bathroom open with her foot. “Mom eats cereal instead of ice cream if she gets hungry in the evening.” 

“Maybe.” He answered and she could hear him shuffling around.

“Nice bathroom.” Anna couldn't imagine why anyone would want a claw-foot bathtub, but then, this apartment used to belong to one of grandma's friends. There was also a shower in the back corner, across from the toilet. “Even the bathroom is cle...” Her words were cut off as she looked down into the white porcelain tub and caught sight of a long, furry, black – thing. She screamed. 

“Anna!” The door flew open. “What is it?” 

She found her voice as the creature turned, stood, front paws near the lip of the tub and let out a pitiful meow. “I found the cat.” She reached down and picked the animal up, and it began to purr, hard. “Oh, poor little Arya, left all alone.” She looked over at her dad. “She startled me, that's all.” 

“I can see how that would happen.” Dad chuckled. “At least now we know Gwen doesn't have her. Guess the tub's colder than most places in the apartment, and when you have a permanent fur coat, you look for those in the summer.” He walked out of the bathroom and she followed, the cat still purring like a motor. 

“Is the kitchen as clean as the rest of this place?” She asked as he went into the kitchen, and she stayed in the threshold, watching. 

“Everything except the fridge.” Dad opened it, frowning. From where she was standing, all she could see was a half-full gallon of milk and two leftover containers full of something she couldn't identify. “It could use a little soap and water.” 

“So could ours.” She remarked. “If I said it's weird how clean this place is, would that be wrong?”

“It's not wrong,” He chuckled as he shut the fridge, then looked down the short galley kitchen. “But then I know that your Aunt Leia is just as fastidious about keeping things clean, and according to your great-grandmother, so was your granddad.” 

“Aunt Leia would have a cow if she heard you say that.” She snickered and set Arya down, the cat swished away, still meowing off and on, and Anna wondered if she was calling for Ben.

“She'd deny it.” He went over to the pantry and all she could see were two boxes of cereal, and a few canned goods. “I already checked this.” He started as his cellphone went off in his pocket. “I just called your mom...” He pulled it from his pocket and frowned before answering. “Leia.” 

She leaned against the counter, watching her father as his face went through a gauntlet of emotions. She couldn't hear what her aunt was saying, but from the look on her dad's face, it couldn't have been what he wanted to hear; it was the same expression he wore when she or one of her siblings was in serious trouble.

“You're getting ready to board right now?” His eyebrows lifted, glancing over at her.

Aunt Leia was actually coming to Chicago?

He shook his arm to push back his sleeve so he could read his watch. “No, I don't know how long of a drive it is from O'Hare to the hospital. Depends on the traffic.” He nodded. “Uh huh. Uh huh. Han hasn't answered his phone yet?” 

Anna rolled her eyes and turned from her dad, going down the small galley kitchen to the end, where there was an open cupboard, with a washer/dryer set. Out of habit, she opened the dryer and her eyes widened – there was a load of dark shirts and sweats inside. She shut the door and selected the 'fluff' cycle, just to freshen the clothes a little.

“We'll see you at the hospital around four then.” She heard her dad say as she came back up towards him. “Have a nice flight.” He ended the call. “Well, this is unexpected.” 

“We're going to have to take a picture or mom won't believe it.” Anna let out a breath. “Ben had a load in the dryer.” 

“I'll bet there are a few things on his list that are in there.” Dad went over to the pantry and took out a canvas grocery bag. “I want you to go in the front office and get a blank notebook, also, he said the book he's been reading is in there, should be on the desk.” 

She nodded and walked out of the kitchen.

*

Brian Hanson had once stood on the edge of oblivion. He could still remember the day clearly. It was sunny, the last of the warm days of October before the bitterness of autumn wedged itself into the city. Nine stories up, his gaze on the sidewalk that seemed both a mere step and a thousand feet below him. The reason, in hindsight, was laughable. It'd just been a rough day; rumors of department shutdowns and a possible takeover at work. Just because you're with a company twenty years is no guarantee of surviving an upheaval and reformation. 

He stood on that window ledge for thirty minutes. Thirty long minutes – more than enough time to jump, to step back – to change his mind. He could also remember the people across the street, watching him, some with their phones pointed up at his trembling, collapsing form. 

Brian had closed his eyes, and raised his hands – and a fraction of a second later, he was hauled backwards into the gutted apartment, sprawling over his rescuer, pain from a scrapped hand lancing through him. He'd righted himself, turned and saw who had wrenched him from death.

A teenager with black hair, big nose, big ears, moles doting his pale face and he seems to be nothing but angles. The boy merely blinked at him in surprise, almost as if he hadn't expected his noble task to have worked. 

And Brian started to scream at the young man who had just saved his life. Wretched, awful words – he was thankful he can't remember all of what he said, but he can remember the _what the fuck do you think you're doing, you stupid shit? I didn't ask you to save me!_ His savior took all of his curses, his insults, all of it – and just blinked at him. _What, you're expecting me to say thank you, asshole?_

When the kid stood up, he was taller than Brian. By at least half a foot. _No. The fact that I don't have to go on living knowing that I didn't just walk by or stand there is thanks enough._ He'd walked away then, and Brian kept cussing at him until he was out of sight. 

Then he'd just snapped and began to weep. In relief, in despair – in nothing but sheer emotion and terror. 

He never expected to see the kid again. 

In the four years since the incident, he did – twice. Once, he'd been ducking out of the same psychiatric practice he was going into – that was two years ago – and the other, had been yesterday. When he'd gotten distracted by his phone and slammed his car into the young man in a crosswalk. 

*

Leia's drink sat untouched on her tray table since she'd taken the first sip of it and she hadn't opened her complimentary snack box either. All she could do was sit there, pinching the bridge of her nose, willing the plane to go faster. Of all the ways she imagined reuniting with her child, going to see him in the ICU had been nowhere on the list. She was relieved that her flight was direct and she hadn't had to change planes. She was also thankful that she always kept a packed carry-on in her office, in the event of emergencies. 

“Would it help if I got out and pushed?” A voice said next to her and she looked over at her seatmate, a man of about thirty, with a ghost of a beard. 

“I should have been in Chicago yesterday afternoon.” It was about the only thing she trusted herself to say. She picked up the small plastic cup and took another sip of her screwdriver; the vodka was decent brand, at least.

“We should be there in an hour.” He took a drink from his own cup, then dug a chip out of the bag in his snack box. His attention went from her to the thick bundle of paper he was reading. 

Leia set her drink down and opened her own box. It was almost all junk food; tortilla chips, a granola bar, a package of cookies and a fruit cup. “Didn't there used to be sandwiches in these?”

“I remember peanuts.” The man offered and she repressed a weak chuckle. “I think if you want a sandwich, you'd have to be taking a flight to the West Coast or Texas.” 

“Glad I don't have to.” She opened the bag of chips. “Manuscript?”

“Yeah.” He marked something on it with a pen, but she couldn't read what he'd written. “I am extremely thankful that my boss has stated that all vampire, angel and post-apocalyptic works aren't allowed past the first cut. This is actually pretty good.” He nodded towards the work. “It's rather refreshing to get a slightly-religious based book where the protagonist isn't a self-righteous little shit.” 

She took a drink. “I haven't read fiction in years, so I wouldn't know.”

*

Jennifer Quirk was worried; she'd had a wretched, nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach for the better part of the day. It was similar to the feeling she'd gotten her Junior year of high school when her friend Michelle had gone on vacation to San Francisco with her parents. She kept her focus on her hands as she made her way down the highly polished floor, trying to quiet her mind.

“Sister Flora, there you are.” A calm voice called and she turned. 

“Good afternoon, Mother Elizabeth.” She inclined her head slightly, then saw the look on the woman's face. “What's wrong?” 

“You have a telephone call from a young lady named Anna Skywalker. She states that she is not family, but that you do know who she is.” 

The feeling in her gut turned over. “Yes. She is the cousin of a long-time friend of mine.” They started up the corridor, and she had to repress the urge to run, but the Mother Abbess seemed to understand her need and their footsteps were slightly faster than they should be. _Not Ben,_ she silently prayed, _please, merciful Father, don't take Ben too._

*

It was another hot day in Houston. Nate Turabian silently reminded himself for the umpteenth time that he'd taken the job at Continental Airline Headquarters because it was an amazing opportunity he'd be a fool to pass up – and the end of winter. He frowned at the menu in front of him, his mind only half on food. He'd felt uneasy all day; and he'd been checking the weather, almost certain he'd see a tornado watch, or something – but it was nothing but heat, heat and more heat. 

“Good afternoon, welcome to Chili's.” the server had appeared next to his table and he looked up. Her hair was in three buns on the back of her head. “My name's Rey, and I'll be taking care of you today. Could I bring you something to drink?”

“Tea, no lemon, please.” He answered, giving her a wan smile. Maybe it was allergies.

“Sure.” She scribbled it down. “We have a special today of fajita quesadillas, your choice of steak, chicken, or vegetarian, it's served with a side of black beans and rice. Did you see an appetizer you would care to try?” 

“I'm still looking, thank you.” He nodded in thanks. 

“Not a problem, I'll be right back with your tea.” She turned and left. 

“Girl sounds like she's from London.” He mumbled. “Must be an exchange student.” His phone went off and he answered it without looking at the caller ID. “Nate Turabian.”

“Nate?” The woman on the other end was on the borderline of bawling. “Nate, is that you?”

“Jen?” He knew that voice. “Jen, what's wrong?”

“It's Ben. He's been hit by a car, and he's in the ICU in Chicago.” she gulped. “His cousin says he'll be all right, but I don't...” She made another noise, and he couldn't identify it. “I can't leave the abbey, Nate.”

“What hospital?” He set the menu down just as Rey returned and put his tea on the table. She saw him on the phone and mouthed. “I'll come back.” and left. 

“University of Illinois.” she calmed down a fraction. “I need to keep this short. I'm only allowed so many minutes a month on the phone.” 

“As soon as I hang up with you, I'm going to call the hospital and if I can't talk to Ben, I'm getting all the details I can. I'll send you an email, alright? I can be up in Chicago by the weekend, but not any sooner.” He heard her take several gulping breaths again. “Keep your prayers said.” 

Jen let out a weak chuckle. “Well, prayers _are_ my specialty. And you be careful.” 

“You know me.” He grinned.

“That is exactly the point.” She replied. “Good bye. Blessings to you.” 

“Bye.” He ended the call and took a long sip of tea just as the server came back. “Sorry about that.”

“It's fine.” The girl worried at her bottom lip, “Are you ready to order?”

Nate gave her a wan smile, doing his best to hide his worry over his best friend. “Could I please get the Texas Cheese Fries? Full order.” 

“Not a problem. Will there be anything else?” She asked as she wrote down his request.

“Sadly, I'm on lunch break and that means no liquor.” He handed her the menu before taking a drink of his tea.

“I'll get that right in for you.” She took the menu and walked away.

“All right, all right...stay calm, stay calm.” He looked down at his phone and took a breath. “Siri, call the University of Illinois Hospital, Chicago.” He pulled two sugar packets from the caddy on the side of the table and wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder. There were three rings before it was picked up.

“Good Afternoon, University Hospital.” It was an older sounding man on the line.

“ICU, please.” He dumped the sugar into his glass and stirred it slowly, deciding that the hospital had terrible hold music. He drew out the spoon and set it down just as someone picked up the other end.

“ICU.” The woman's voice was calm. 

“Yes, my name is Nate Turabian, I would like to speak to Ben Solo, please.” He kept his voice as even as he could.

“Are you family, Mr. Turabian?” He narrowed his eyes at the question. Family? He was as good as, but he doubted the woman would see it that way. “No, I'm not.” 

“I'm afraid that the doctors...” He cut her off just as the server set his fries on the table.

“I am the closest thing Ben has to a brother, now put me through to his room, or so help me I will go to New Orleans and find a voodoo priestess to curse every bloody sports team in your city, from the Blackhawks to the pre-preschool patty-cake program!”

Rey covered her mouth to repress the snort and he watched her walk away, hunched over to contain her laughter.

“One moment please.” The woman on the other end of the line replied, her tone flat. 

“Thank you.” He answered and pulled a fry from the basket in front of him. The phone rang twice before it was answered.

“Yes?” It was an older man, and he sounded exhausted. 

“Hi, my name's Nate...”

“I had a feeling you were going to be calling, I'm Ben's uncle, one second here.” There was a scuffling sound and then he heard a worn, tired and at the same time, familiar voice.

“Nate, I'm fine...” Ben let out a cough.

“It's my turn to be the mom-friend, BB. I just got off the phone with Jen, and she was practically in hysterics. What the hell happened to you?” He ate some of his lunch.

“I was following the traffic rules, the BMW that hit me was in the wrong.” His friend sighed. “Really, it's not that bad.”

“Uh huh. Aren't you the guy who once ran four miles with a broken foot?” Nate retorted. “In fact, I'm willing to bet the rest of my paychecks for the year that you're not being honest about how much pain you're really in.” 

“Nate.” His voice came out in a low whine. “It's not _that_ bad.” 

“Sure it's not. And I'm Miss America.” He pulled another bunch of fries from the basket. “I'm going to try and get up to Chicago this weekend, that's two days from now. If you're not being honest with the nurses and doctors by then, we're going to have this talk _again,_ only I won't be repressing my urge to use profanity.” He ate more of his lunch.

“Fine.” Ben mumbled. “Better you than Jen.”

“Yeah, lying to a nun is an extremely poor life choice.” He chuckled. “Even if she wasn't a nun, it's still _Jen._ ”

“You need to eat. I need to sleep.” He answered. “I can't promise I'll be coherent next time you call.” 

“Let the people there take care of you BB, that's what they're there for.” He let out a deep breath. “Talk to you soon.” 

“Thanks, Nate.” There was a shuffling noise and then he heard the phone click off. 

“You better.” He ended the call and turned his attention to his food. 

*

Rey was used to solitary diners spending their entire meal on their phones. She was still snickering over the man's comment about cursing sports teams. She picked up the server book from the table, and flipped it open, stopping short when she saw that next to the tab was a twenty, and on the other side was a hundred dollar bill. 

*  
Ben wasn't certain how late it was. The lack of exterior windows and clocks kept time obscured. He knew that Uncle Luke and Anna had gone for the day to let him rest. He was completely oblivious to any of the pain and his mind was foggy. Before they'd left, his uncle had told him the funniest thing – his mom was coming to Chicago. That was silly, Leia Organa wasn't going to come out and see him, even if he was laid up in the ICU. 

There came the soft sound of the heavy glass door being swept aside and he blinked a few times. It must be a nurse coming to check on him again. A nurse wearing high heels, judging from the pronounced clip of her shoes. 

“My god.” The nurse sounded like his mother too. 

He opened his eyes, relieved that they'd untapped the right one earlier today, and he blinked in the dim light, confused. Oh. He was dreaming. That was the only reason his mom would be at his bedside, with that horrified look on her face. Ben had had these sorts of dreams before. Although Dad usually appeared in them too. It hurt to smile, so he merely blinked at the vision at his bedside. 

“Ben? Baby? Are you awake?” When was the last time Mom spoke to him like that?

“No.” He answered. “I must be dreaming, because you're here.” He closed his eyes for a moment, adjusting his chin, whatever painkillers they had given him, he was able to shift without discomfort, although he was certain his shoulder should be throbbing.

The hand on his unmarred cheek was soft and smelled the like Chanel counter at Macy's. Despite all that had happened between him and his parents, Ben could never stop associating that scent with comfort. Back when things had been different; before things in the Organa-Solo family shattered, leaving its three members all on their own sides. “You rest, young man.” Still with that gentle tone; Ben was certain that his mother was incapable of speaking that way anymore.

“This will be naught but ashes in the morning.” He half mumbled. “But this is a good dream.” He let himself drift back into deeper sleep with the gentle feel of his mother stroking his hair and humming a lullaby he was certain she'd forgotten years ago.


End file.
